still waking
by seilleanmor
Summary: An two-shot set in the More Than Together universe. How Kate handles the kids when Castle is away on a book tour.
1. Chapter 1

_An expansion of the More Than Together universe. You do not necessarily have to have read that fic in order for this to make sense, but I would suggest that you do in order to understand the backstory. _

_For Eli and Aisle. Having you two gone makes writing Kate's loneliness easier, but everything else harder._

* * *

In June when you moved to New York, I Skyped you

every day from my bed at the crack of dawn, bleary-eyed

and still waking up, just so I could catch you before

you went to sleep.

_**long-distance lover**_**, writingsforwinter**

* * *

**still waking**

* * *

"I want _Daddy_."

Kate presses her wrist to her forehead and turns away from her daughter, feels the violent arrhythmia of her pulse clatter against her skull. Finding solace in the refrigerator, Kate folds her arms at her chest to try and stop herself crawling right in.

She loves Bea, of course, would give every scrape of herself to keep her baby girl safe. But this morning her daughter is being, really, a brat.

Not in the adorable way, either. The way that she and Castle are endlessly amused by, how she gives her big brother ream after ream of imperative instruction. But that's when her husband's here to laugh with her, tease her.

He's adamant that their daughter is such an autocrat because of her mother, that it's all Kate's genes.

Right now, the girl's stubbornness is grating up at the very edges of Kate's limits, her patience already stretched into threads that she finds herself hand over hand clinging to. Day three of caring for both children full time, and she burns with the need to spar, run, hit the range.

Something to take the edge off, before she throttles one of them.

Beckett flexes her fingers around the carton of orange juice, has to force herself not to grasp it too hard. She fetches a glass from the cupboard, the pink plastic straw that goes around and around like a helter skelter, and sets the both at the counter in front of her daughter.

"I don't want orange juice, Mommy." Bea whines, right as Kate's about to pour.

She grits her teeth, sets the carton down and turns a gaze like steel on Beatrice. The girl pales as her mouth snaps closed, the next complaint dying on her tongue. Her bottom lip quivers, fat crocodile tears flooding right at the precipice of falling.

"What would you like to have, then?"

"Apple." Kate arches an eyebrow, her mouth stitched into a seam as she regards her daughter. She waits and then, a tiny voice. "Please, Momma."

"Good manners, baby girl."

Pouring the juice for Bea, Kate glances at the girl's plate and bites back a sigh. Still mostly full. Kate made eggs specially, forgoing cereal because she knows neither of the kids really likes it.

Damn it. She wants her children to have good memories of summer, of their mother looking after them. Not all the ways she went wrong.

"Something wrong with your eggs?" Kate cards a hand through the fall of Beanie's curls, smoothing her thumb under her baby's eye.

Bea turns a scowl up to her mother, little hands locking around Kate's wrist to tear her mother's hand away from her face. She folds her arms, looking every inch the impenetrable wall of bad-temperedness that Beckett has been wrangling since Castle left.

"Daddy makes yummy eggs. These ones are all squeaky."

_Squeaky_? Huh. That's new. "Yes, well, Daddy isn't here. So either you eat these eggs I made for you specially, or you won't get to eat anything until lunchtime. You choose."

"They're_ soooo _gross Mommy." Bea whines, beating her heels against the frame of the bar stool. The pounding works its way inside of Kate's brain and festers, shards of irritation every time she so much as blinks.

"You choose, Bea. I'm going to go get dressed and when I come back I want to see that you ate some." Beckett takes the fork that lies prone on the counter top, divides the eggs into two unequal portions and turns the plate so the smaller portion is in front of her daughter.

She'll be lucky if Bea even deigns to eat that much, but it's worth a shot.

Kate rounds the counter and moves for the staircase, calling up to the first floor where hopefully, her son is dressed and ready. "Jack?"

Jackson emerges from his room and comes thundering down the stairs, coming around to wrap both arms around his mother. Since Castle left he's been clingy, seeking out affection from Kate a lot more frequently than she's come to expect from her seven year old.

"You good to go, buddy?"

"Uhuh." He grins up at her, chin pillowed at his mother's sternum. "I already brushed my teeth too."

Kate grins at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and slowly peeling him away from her. She loves curling up with him, the soft comfort of his weight in her arms, but the constant physicality can sometimes be a little much.

"Good job. Could you sit with your sister please baby?" She cards her fingers through the spill of her son's curls and guides him over to the kitchen island, leaning in to press a kiss to Bea's cheek as well.

"I can look after the baby, Mom." Jack says, side-eyeing his sister as he fishes for a reaction from her. Which, of course, he gets.

"I'm not a baby! I am _five_." Beatrice wails, hand splayed to show the number before she shoves her palm at her brother's face, trying to hook her fingers into his eye sockets.

"Guys." Kate cuts in, the cop voice that has both of them immediately falling silent. "Be nice. Jack, your sister isn't a baby, even if she is acting like one this morning. Just sit here, don't fight, I'll be back in a minute."

Beckett turns her back on the pair of them and moves to her bedroom, settling cross-legged on top of the sheets and gathering her phone from the nightstand. She catches her curls in a ponytail, smoothing her palms over the flyaways, and tugs off her yoga pants.

She wants to curl her husband. It aches, how fiercely she misses him. He always seems to know exactly what to do, how to make it right. Castle is a wonderful father, and he draws out all the best parts of her.

Without him, she just keeps getting it wrong.

Kate forces herself to get up; her sleep shirt and underwear pooling at her feet as she strips them all off. Showering fast, Kate hurries through the rest of her routine. A slick of eyeliner, lip balm, and she tugs a sundress over her head.

It makes her feel not at all like Detective Beckett, not even really Kate. This woman in the mirror, all soft edges and creased skin, is Mrs Castle. A person called Mom who Kate still doesn't feel like she really knows all that well. Carding her fingers through her hair, Kate sighs into the emptiness of their bathroom. Time to get the kids ready.

She promised she'd take them to the park today. All three of them missing Castle with a fierce sort of desperation that doesn't ever seem to dissipate, but at least there are ways she can distract them.

If only she could also find a way to distract herself.

* * *

"Mommy!"

Kate glances up, sees her daughter hanging upside down at the climbing frame, her little cheeks pink as gravity draws all her blood down towards her face. Panic lurches in her stomach, her throat tight with it, but she forces a smile for her baby.

Her son charges towards her, throwing himself down onto the bench at her side and gasping for air, his chest heaving. He beams at her, his still-baby teeth pearly and perfect. "Momma, I met a doggy. He had curly hair and little ears and not like Snicket."

"You did? But did he have a waggy tail like Snicks?"

"Yeah, and a licky licky tongue."

Leaning in to dust a kiss to her little boy's forehead, Kate gives herself a moment to breathe him in. Summer, crisp and fresh, rolls off of him in waves. She just wants to bask in it, the warmth of her son and her little girl's delighted laughter spilling out across the grass.

In her pocket, Beckett's phone vibrates and she wrangles a moment trying to fish it out. She raises an eyebrow at the caller ID, leaning in to tug lightly at Jack's earlobe. "Hey buddy, go play with Beanie. Mommy has to speak to Tìo."

"I speak please to Tìo, Momma?"

"Not right now baby. Maybe later, okay?"

Jack seems to accept this, scurrying off in search of his little sister. Kate watches him go as she raises the phone to her ear, the little hop in his walk as if he can't quite push back the excitement. "Espo, I told you. I need four days, no work."

"I'm not calling about a case, Kate."

_Shit._ Her first name?

"Javi, what is it, what's wrong?" Beckett lets her eyes shutter closed, drawing in a deep breath to temper the paralytic panic, heavy and too sweet in her stomach.

"Have you seen the news today?"

"No, why?"

There's a pause where Kate imagines Esposito scrubbing his hand down his face, trying to find the courage to tell her. This isn't usually his part; usually Beckett is the one who has to break the bad news.

"There's been a plane crash. Flight from Ohio to Connecticut. The death toll is. . .high."

Oh, _God, please_.

Kate lifts a trembling hand to her mouth to cage in the keening that wants to break loose, everything in her body unspooling so her bones feel like liquid, the spaces in between them suddenly cavernous.

"That's his flight, right?" Esposito is saying, sounding miles and forever and a lifetime away from her.

Beckett tightens her grip on the phone, draws in a breath through her teeth that tastes bitter, chokes her. "Espo, I'll call you back."

Every morning, Castle has sent her his itinerary for the day, so that she would know when she could call him, where he'd be, what he's doing. More for his own piece of mind than hers, she imagines, but that one small contact has been a comfort.

This morning, he called her. They talked briefly of his dinner the evening before, how he couldn't sleep because the spring in the hotel mattress was trying to wrap itself around his spine. He told her he loved her and she had to hang up to separate her warring children before she could say it back.

He also told her that he is flying out today from Ohio.

To Connecticut.


	2. Chapter 2

**still waking**

* * *

Beckett collars her son as he charges back, hooking her elbow at his waist and yanking him hard against her side. It surprises him enough that she can set her palms at his shoulders and push down, keep him in place.

"Jack, we're going home. Right now. No arguments."

Her training is kicking in already, the blind panic and the hot gush of adrenaline through her system giving her a clear cut focus, so she feels that she could move mountains; annihilate anyone who even attempted to stop her.

Letting go of her son, Kate forces herself to smile for him. The boy's eyes are wide, her own terror reflected back at her, and then he wraps reed-like arms around his mother's waist and holds on. She cradles Jack's skull in her palm, sifting her fingers through his hair over and over.

When he steps back his little face is entrenched with grief, always sensitive to his mother's own emotions. "Are you okay, Mommy?"

"I'm fine. Can you go get your sister, buddy?"

"Kay." He nods, solemn and quiet as he moves towards the swingset. Bea arches in the seat, her toes stretched to scrape against the clouds, and Kate hates herself for taking them away, shattering their innocence.

No. This has to stop. She's not certain about anything yet. And she can't let her kids see that something is wrong. She can't scare them too.

Jack comes back then, his sister's little hand cradles in his own as he drags her over. Kate gets to her knees in front of her children, ignoring the bite of gravel through at her knees as she wraps an arm around each of them and tugs them in.

Hot breath at her clavicle, the dust of fragile lashes to her neck, and it's so good. It's so good to have them here, to draw comfort from them. Bea splays a hand at her mother's back, thin fingers curling into the strap of her tank.

"_Mommy_." The girl breathes, her heart beating right out of its cage like a hummingbird, tiny and delicate where it thuds against Kate's sternum.

"Okay guys. It's okay. I just need to go home; I have to call some people."

Jack detaches first, taking his sister's hand again and patting at Kate's thigh, offering a grin up to her. "We can be good, right Beanie? While you catch the bad guys."

Beckett opens her mouth to dispute that, snaps it closed again at the look on their faces. Yeah, okay, maybe it's better that they think she has to work. At least for now.

No point upsetting them if he. . .

Castle is fine. Castle is _fine_.

He has to be.

* * *

"Damn it." Kate grunts, locking her phone and shoving it back into the depths of her pocket, raking a hand through her hair. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she glances down to see both kids staring up at her.

The elevator car lurches and Beanie whimpers, wrapping both arms around her mother's knee and pressing her face into Kate's thigh. Settling a hand at the girl's head, Kate closes her eyes and tries to think.

Neither Castle nor his publisher is answering their phone. She could call Black Pawn, but she supposes they don't know any more than she does at this point. She could use her connections at the precinct to speak with the Connecticut police department, but it's too early for them to possibly have IDs for the dead.

The dead. _Shit_.

Her husband might be one of them.

Kate grits her teeth to battle back the keening that fights to spill out, the fingernails of her free hand digging hard into her palm. She used to do that a lot when they fought, trying to let the jolt of pain bring her clarity. Afterwards, Castle would press his mouth to the milky crescent moons and beg her forgiveness even as he gave her his own.

The elevator doors open as Kate tugs her phone free, calling him again. She herds the kids down the hallway, not paying attention so she ends up shoving at Jack a little too hard, making him stumble. In her ear, her husband's voice is chipper as ever.

_You've reached Richard Castle, lucky you_.

She is lucky, she's so incredibly lucky to have him and two beautiful children and this whole life they've worked to build together. She won't lose him like this.

Kate nudges the door open with her hip, the kids clinging like shadows at her side. Locking it behind her, she whistles for the dog and sees him barrelling towards them from the kitchen. Snicket presses his nose into Jack's palm, his tail smacking against Bea over and over, and her kids run off to play with their dog.

Good. That's something, at least. They seem to have momentarily forgotten their mother's distress. She moves for the bedroom, snagging a hair tie from the dresser and catching the spill of curls in a knot at her nape.

She can't _think_, the panic making her stupid. It's a really stupid idea, but a part of her burns to call her dad to watch the kids and fly out to Connecticut, see for herself exactly what's happening.

First, though, she has to use the bathroom.

* * *

Castle is just scrubbing shampoo into his hair, the lather white and spattering against the walls as he turns in time to see the door opening.

His wife steps inside the bathroom and he watches her pause, a moment of absolute stillness where he sees the thud of her pulse at her throat, her eyes wide and intense on his. And then she comes for him, yanking open the door and stepping into the shower stall.

Still wearing those tiny shorts that make him want to put his mouth all over her, the stretch of her thigh and hard muscle at her calf. Her arms come around his neck and she goes limp with relief, sagging against him.

Rick cradles her close, a palm at the back and his other cupping her skull. He presses his mouth to her temple and breathes her in, summer and the kids' shampoo and sweet gratitude. "What's going on?"

"You haven't seen the news?" His wife murmurs against his neck, her nails sharp at his nape. Her nose settles at his clavicle and it doesn't seem like she's letting go any time soon, so Castle shuts off the water and tucks her against his side, leading them both out of the stall.

He wraps a towel around her shoulders, slings his own at his hips and turns to see her, the look on her face knocking the breath out of him. That sick sort of relief that comes after something awful is finally over, churning stomach and underneath so much love.

The last time she looked like this, she had their brand new baby girl in her arms and he had Jack, bringing their son to meet his sister.

Kate's palms come up to cup his cheeks, her fingers curling around his ears as her mouth crashes at his. He opens for her, moaning into the swipe of her tongue and the brittle shock of teeth. She takes from him, takes and takes until he has to peel her away from him, his hands at her hips.

"Kate, baby, what's wrong? What about the news?"

His wife brushes three fingers underneath his eye, so much reverence to it that his knees turn liquid, gush onto the tile. "Castle. Esposito called me. Said there was a plane crash."

"Oh God. The flight to Connecticut?"

"Yeah." She grits out, tears suddenly leaping for the precipice of her jaw. Kate crashes back into the cove of his body, lets him guide her into their room and sink down onto the bed. "The flight you were supposed to be on."

"Oh Kate. You thought. . ." He trails off, can't quite complete that sentence. Instead, he draws Kate closer in to him, finds her mouth again. Setting his forehead against hers, he cards a hand through her hair. "The Connecticut leg of the tour was cancelled. I got to come straight home."

"You weren't answering your phone." Kate sucks in a breath that seems more like a sob, coming down from a crying jag.

Shit. Shit, he's a terrible husband. "I had it on airplane mode for the flight and I forgot to take it back off. I'm so sorry, Kate."

"No, don't be sorry. You're alive." His wife curls her fingers into his towel, nails raking lightly over the warmth of his skin. So tender with him in a way he doesn't get to see often.

"Where're the kids?"

She presses her smile against the hard edge of his jaw, everywhere that she touches him igniting at once. "Playing with the dog. They missed you, Daddy."

"Let's get dressed, hmm? And go see our babies."

* * *

"Hey guys," Kate says, rounding the couch and getting down onto the floor to sit with her kids. "Look who I found in the bathroom."

Bea's head snaps up, her gaze immediately drawn to her father where he hovers in the doorway. She squeals, standing up so fast she almost steps on the dog on her way to get to him. "Daddy!"

Rick catches her, swinging her up into his arms and peppering her cheeks with kisses. "Hi Beanie Baby, my beautiful girl. Did you miss me?"

"So _so_ much Daddy."

Kate watches Jack reach his father, always a little slower with the outpouring of emotion. Castle, though, works to draw it out of him, crouching down to pull his son in for a hug as well. He scoops the boy up, carries both kids over to the couch and sinks down onto it with them.

"Come on, Mommy. Family snuggles." He nudges at Kate with his foot, returning the smile she turns up to him.

Kate lifts up onto the couch, taking her son so she can pillow against her husband's side and revel in the soft warmth of their boy. Snicket jumps up to join them, giggles spilling out of Bea as the dog settles his head against her stomach.

Closing her eyes, Kate buries her nose against Rick's collar, a hand settling to scratch behind the dog's ears. Her family, safe and whole.

"I missed you all so much. I love you." Castle says, and Kate's face softens on a smile as Beatrice reaches up to crush her father's face between her palms.

"We love you too, Daddy."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been a sickly Bean this past week or so. As of Friday, I'll be in Rhode Island with AllusionToAnIllusion. Therefore, I won't be posting any new fic. I do however have several things in the pipeline, so I'll see you all in a couple weeks.**

**Much love, Bean.**


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